A Couple of Essays and a Crumpled Quill
by nightshoes
Summary: Hermione's working on an essay in the library. Cedric's working on an essay in the library. Cedric needs a quill - Hermione has one. And that's how it starts. Oneshot. GoF.


_A/N: I quite like this pairing, for some reason. Don't ask. Anyway, here's 'Mione and Ced. Hope you like. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing! I regret nothing! J.K is a god!  
_

* * *

__**A Couple of Essays and a Crumpled Quill  
**

Sighing, I scrabble around in my cluttered bag and pull out a thick sheaf of new parchment. Even in my present state of exhaustion, I couldn't fail to notice the musky scent it carried – one of my favourite smells. I load up my quill purposefully and prepare to write.

"_Describe different attitudes that magizoologists had towards Cross-Species Switching Spells in the fifteenth century,_" I read out from my notes under my breath. "Okay...page one hundred and twenty to one hundred and twenty-four...oh, this is _completely_ pointless..."

It was most unlike me to criticise a school subject, I know. But in the case of History of Magic, I could make an exception. I'm probably the only person who pays attention in class – and I think that's only because I'm scared of failing it if I don't write down my notes. Plus I'd feel lost without my notes. Merlin only knows how Harry and Ron would cope if I wasn't there to let them copy mine.

"_Some magizoologists, in particular Hericticus DeCluskey, held a negative view towards the discovery of Cross-Species Switching Spells in 1432_. _This is because they believed the shape and form of an animal was entirely its own and was made to stay in this way without an interference by wizards. If this happened, they thought the Switched animal may be unable to Switch back to its original form and instead become a dangerous, hybrid form of its own shape and the animal it was Switched with, thought to be highly unnatural. DeCluskey started an Anti-Switch campaign in 1437 based on these beliefs, and attempted to gather animals in his study, claiming he was protecting them from harm. The campaign ended shortly afterwards when it resulted in a Chimaera escaping and destroying the study..._"

Why do I need to know all this? I could be doing something useful with my time. I could be looking up on elf rights. I could be helping to save the poor oppressed house-elves in the kitchens, probably working themselves to near starvation, brainwashed and deluded –

"Er – Hermione?"

I start so violently that my ink bottle almost topples over. Brushing my hair out of my eyes, I stopper the ink bottle before I can do any more damage to it and look up, flustered, to see who's just spoken.

Tall, handsome and smiling pleasantly – it's Cedric Diggory. He's wearing his Hufflepuff scarf draped casually around his neck, which somehow looks utterly cool, and he's peeping around the bookshelf in mild curiosity. I feel a hint of envy; it's eight o'clock and he looks as fresh-faced as if he'd just woken up. Not like me, with my tangled hair wilder than ever and my eyes almost drooping from tiredness.

"Oh, hello, Cedric," I sigh, smiling as I push the candle on my table closer to my parchment so I can read it more clearly.

"I was just wondering if you had a spare quill I could borrow," says Cedric with a dazzling smile. "Mine's snapped, and it was my last one."

"I think so," I say thoughtfully, dipping down to reach into my bag again. "It might be a bit crumpled, though..."

"It doesn't matter," Cedric shrugs. "I just _really_ need to finish this Transfiguration essay and...you know...McGonagall isn't the type to let you off for not handing it in..."

I pass him my spare quill, which looks as though it's seen better days. "I know what you mean," I say, smiling slightly. "History of Magic essays are the worst. I _would_ have gotten in done earlier, but I'm just not on top of things lately..."

I blush slightly. Why am I telling him this? It's not like he cares. He's seventeen, he's popular, he's Captain of his Quidditch team, for Merlin's sake. Not that being Captain of a Quidditch team made you some sort of god – although _some _people seem to think so. It's ridiculous how seriously this school as a whole takes Quidditch. I for one will _never_ understand Ron's fascination with the Chedley Cannons, or whatever they're called.

"Ah, History of Magic? Yeah, it's the worst. It's great not having to listen to Binns droning on any more." Cedric leans down and sits onto the empty chair next to mine, his grey eyes scanning my parchment. Embarassed, I fight the urge to pull my essay away from him.

"I think I'll drop it, too," I say, more to myself than him. "It wouldn't really be that useful for any career, I suppose, although you never know..."

"There are more important subjects," Cedric advises me. "Switching Spells, eh? Funny, I'm writing about them now...although mine's a little trickier."

"Is it?" Cedric Diggory, finding something _tricky_? I don't think so.

"Describe, in detail, Keller's theory of how Cross-Species Switching Spells work and list problems which might occur in Switching Spells between animals, particularly mammals and reptiles," Cedric recites.

I grimace. "Well, you could start with the fact that reptiles are cold-blooded and mammals aren't, so this makes it even more difficult for mammals to Switch because it could cause mutations in – what?"

Cedric is staring at me. "How did you know that?" he says, startled.

"Oh – er – I read it in _Animal Manipulations Through the Centuries_," I say quietly, tapping the green leather-bound book amongst the scatter of textbooks, parchment and quills which clutter my reading area.

"That isn't even on _my_ booklist!" Cedric says, puzzled.

"It's not on mine, either," I said. "I just got it because I'm interested in animal Transfiguration."

"You should write my essay for me," Cedric jokes.

"I'd happily swap," I smile.

Suddenly, there's a creaking behind us. I jump, and turn around – but it's only Madam Pince, the cranky librarian, crawling her way amongst the maze of shelves.

"Has it _ever_ occurred to you," she hisses, "that there is supposed to be _silence _in a library?"

"Sorry," Cedric mutters.

She gives us both an evil, narrow-eyed look, and then hobbles past us to the 'W-Z' section.

"So, how've you been?" Cedric says conversationally. "I haven't spoken to you since the World Cup."

"I've been alright, thanks," I reply. "Everyone's been worried, of course, and Mr Weasley – Ron's dad – he's been going through a lot with the Ministry, too."

"Yeah, it's been the same with my dad," Cedric nods. "Hectic. I expect your parents are worried, aren't they? My mum had a fit of worry and almost wouldn't let me come on the train."

"My parents are Muggles," I say shortly.

"Oh," Cedric replies, looking rather lost for words. "Sorry, I , er, didn't know –"

"It's alright."

I turn to my essay and think of how I can start my next sentence. Cedric clears his throat.

"So, this Triwizard Tournament, eh?" Cedric says casually. "I can't wait."

"You're thinking of entering?" I say, silently thinking that he was mad – the Tournament sounded too suspicious and dangerous, in my opinion. On the other hand, this was _Cedric Diggory_; I doubted there was something he couldn't do. Oh, _Merlin_, now I was sounding like some pathetic member of his fan club.

"Of course I am!" Cedric says enthusiastically. "It sounds amazing! One thousand Galleons...it could really help me in the future, you know, and Dad thinks I'm going to be chosen already...I'll have to see what the others are like, you know, from the two other schools."

"Beauxbatons and Durmstrang," I say automatically.

"You haven't read anything about them, too, have you?" Cedric says knowingly.

"Well, there are a few chapters on them in _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_," I say seriously, and then blush furiously because I know now he's joking.

"Have you made your way through the whole library or something?" laughs Cedric.

I laugh, and then scribble a few words on my essay. As much as I'm strangely enjoying Cedric's company – we never really got to talk at the Quidditch World Cup considering all the boys talked about with him was Quidditch (see what I mean about taking it seriously?) – I really, _really_ need to finish my work. Getting distracted and leaving it incomplete is one of my biggest annoyances.

"Sorry, I'll let you get on with your work," Cedric says, pushing back his chair, which sounds so loud in the quiet that I'm surprised Madam Pince isn't sprinting down to where we sit at this moment.

"Oh – don't think that you have to – I'm sorry for ignoring you, I just – "

"It's no problem," Cedric grins. "Good luck with the essay."

"Good luck with yours," I say politely. "And if you _do_ enter the Tournament – I'll be rooting for you."

"Good to know I have support from other Houses," Cedric laughs.

He goes back to his reading area on the other side of the bookshelf facing me. I hear the scratching of a quill on parchment.

" – _resulted with a Chimaera escaping and destroying the study..._oh, Merlin's pants to this," I whisper, and I snap my textbook shut, roll up my parchment and shove everything back in my bag. I would have to do it at break tomorrow, before History of Magic began. Cedric had left me hopelessly distracted, and no amount of books I had ever read, or would ever read, could stop it.


End file.
